Long Unbeknown Poems
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Once upon a time,
In a secluded, distant kingdom,
There lived a beautiful princess
Who spent her days carefree,
If not slightly impassive,
Exploring the palace gardens and
Dancing nimbly around the courtyards,
More often than not accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting,
The youngest of which had become
Her best and most trustworthy friend over the years, and whom,
Unbeknown to the princess,
Suspected she had fallen in love with her.
The princess's sixteenth birthday came, and there was
Great rejoicing throughout the land.
The princess and her best friend
Found it all rather amusing and tiresome when
The King declared that it was time
His daughter was married.
The princess took little interest in the
Many suitors who came to try and
Win her heart, though when she
Consulted her friend,
The lowly lady-in-waiting,
She was always sure to remark on
Which man seemed the kindest,
Who was the funniest, and
Which would provide her with stability and care.
Though, of course,
She privately dismissed them all.
So the years went past,
The princess grew more beautiful each day,
Beginning to make an effort to impress
The neverending stream of suitors,
Whilst her lady-in-waiting,
Silently saddened and horrified by her own desire,
Continued to enourage, comfort and love the princess
As the suitors came and went.
The princess laughed and kissed her friend, saying
No man could ever mean as much to her as she.
Then one day, a prince arrived at the palace,
One unlike any the princess had met before,
He smiled at her and she
Never sighed or turned away,
But merely smiled back.
The lady-in-waiting watched them
Explore the kingdom astride a white horse,
Dance delightedly together in the moonlight,
And she saw the prince
Encourage, comfort and love the princess,
And she blinked away her grief.
Soon wedding bells rang throughout the land
As the prince and princess held hands and
Spoke their vows,
The lady-in-waiting stood near the
Back of the congregation,
Smile frozen on her face.
She had no horse, of course,
She could not waltz,
She was a lady-in-waiting; a servant,
And the princess always marries the prince
And they live happily ever after.
There are no fairytales for fools like her,
And she is left waiting, wanting, wasting,
Without a hope of happiness,
And that's how the story ends.
I want to tell a funny story,
About this certain candle I had bought.
“We’ll have a romantic night in”
This is the first thing I thought.
Now this candle had its own jar,
One of those ones with 3 wick burners,
A statement decor piece, they say
A real mood turner.
I put the kids to bed
And set up the room just right,
I lit this big ass candle
And turned off all the lights.
The candle smelt amazing,
The room was all a glow,
I said we’ll do soft and sensual,
You know, we’ll start off slow…
But things sped up, and I kept saying
“shhh or you’ll wake the kids…”
The mood was very romantic and
I was thinking “I could used to this…”
Things were getting heated,
And the bed was starting to shake,
Unbeknown to us - the candle
would crash down like an earthquake.
Then suddenly the room went dark
and we couldn’t work out why…
For this big ass candle had other plans
- like learning to fly!!
In the heat of the moment,
We forgot the candle on the bed,
Within a split second it fell off
And smacked poor hubby in the head.
It landed on his naked chest,
Covering him in hot wax from head to toe,
Turning his red beard white and
burning his chest hair, face and nose.
He let out a scream of pain
He thought he had been discreet -
He woke all the kids up
And half the bloody street!
He leapt out of bed in a mad rush,
And slid across the wax covered floor,
He was trying to wipe his eyes so he
could find the handle on the bloody door.
I flicked the light on and seen
that the wax had started to set,
For he couldn’t move or speak
This will be a night we’ll never forget.
The bed looked like a crime scene,
For the wax had stuck like glue,
There he was standing butt naked
Looking like one of those wax statues.
We couldn’t get the wax off,
We had to throw out the sheets.
Alright candle - you win that round.
We’ll just have to admit defeat.
When I said things were getting hot,
This is not what I had in mind.
Pretty sure he got 3rd degree burns
and is now partially blind.
That’s the story of our hot date,
Something we could’ve never planned,
One thing is for certain though,
All the ing candles have been banned!
Three trains
The first train was bereavement, in the cab the driver died
pulling a coach of grieving souls, unknowing yet, inside
The second train was unemployed and heading where it will
no scheduled destination and so many miles to kill
Third train was steaming in real fast, relationship express
out of control, the brakes applied but flat out, nonetheless.
Where the tracks all crossed was a signal box, manned by a crew of one
who bumbled by from day to day not knowing what was wrong.
But up there in the box he heard, and from all sides could see
the trains approach their final stop, and that last stop was me.
Bereavement got there first and there was nothing I could do
no lights nor signals made a difference, it just ploughed on through
as unemployed converged at speed and rolled on to it's side
the pair of them went in nose first as relationship arrived
the signal box was crushed beneath, it didn't stand a chance
buried in the twisted wreck of flaming circumstance.
Shock finally subsided and the smoke began to clear
just left with total darkness and no way from out of here
all the wreckage pressing down meant nowhere else to go
just curl up in a tiny ball, try not to move, get low.
So there I stayed as unbeknown their night turned into day
the sounds of all around me going on their merry way.
Many days entombed were spent, not praying for release
comfortable in misery, my loneliness my peace
until the silence broken by a piercing warning shout,
'No rescue's due, it's up to you to dig your passage out'.
From where the voice had come from I could neither hear nor see
until the realisation that the sound had come from me
skin tearing on the razor steel I slowly fought my way
and finally emerged, bathed gratefully in the light of a new day.
No fanfare, and no wild applause, no ticker tape parade
life went on, oblivious to the escape that I had made.
Since then I've built another box around me, much much stronger
and hope the time till the next train will be, Lord, much much longer.
For contest 'Get low', sponsored by Casarah Nance
In memory of that dreadful year 2002.
(thank you All Poetry, Facebook, family
Poetry Soup,... et cetera global friends.)
A network of cherished kinships allied
forged, and linkedin analogous
to union of groom and bride
thru electronic bonds engender intrigue,
nonetheless unconditionally accept,
no matter I chide
self, and reference mine existence
as if...this mortal already died
now more appreciative than ever,
cuz younger days witnessed
peers that did elide
me accompanied with relentless
teasing, snubbing, roasting
akin tubby kindled over a fireside,
thus...solitude shadowed me as sole guide
peopled with books
to escape and hide
from so called "real"
webbed world, yet inside
this former grievous
lad through alienation,
emasculation, and isolation no joyride
valuing myself less than a pawn on
chessboard of life
envying extrovert as kingside
station depriving, insulating, and
ostracizing yours truly belied
to Matthew Scott Harris
marginally functioning, and denied
him camaraderie, dating, enjoying
female friendships due
to lack of confidence and pride
and at the cusp of
pubescence...a slow descending ride
into the hungry (anorexic)
maws of suicide,
which ideations hammer psyche,
now aghast how I tried
(without success) to disappear sundering
mine complex edifice
into the wide
abyss of nothingness, hence to treasure
those electronic connections,
perhaps...totally no more'n four score
(and seven years ago)
all told of unbeknown village people
comprising worthy chums,
sans human league roar
ring (okay pardon the hyperbole),
but letting this foo fighter explore
a greater range of interpersonal
(no matter virtual), but each
unnamed cyber buddy worth more
than simple rhyming galore
words express, some
or all those who sprung
from Earth, wind and fire,
viz cosmic toreador
this poet would their
physical presence adore,
who realizes genuine experienced love
second best option
communicated thru the Internet...bonjour,
hence please accept at the least
(even thee lovely cousins,
daughters, sister Shari por favor,
a hug emanating from within mine
integrated central processing unit core!
MURDER AND REVENGE
There was once a man called Ben,
Who was wed to a woman named Gwen.
They lived in the country out of choice,
To avoid the hustle and bustle and noise.
Opposite their very big house,
Were a huge number of crows,
Which his spouse
Didn’t like, A murder of them,
Who flew around all day,
Soon I will have my way
Said Ben – Amen!
Both mom and dad were afraid to let
Young Benny,
And their younger Lenni,
Outside to play for they had heard that these
Birds were rather aggressive,
Both became completely obsessive!
One Sunday afternoon, a crow visited their garden,
Unbeknown to Ben, I beg your Pardon,
Lennie came out to play, they made friends,
She wanted to make amends,
But her father rushed out and shot the crow
Crows seek revenge, this he did not know!
Suddenly the murder of crows arrived
To grief for their friend, each carried, a twig,
A branch or a leave, young Lennie put
Down a flower,
Again her Dad rushed out to grab her but the
Crows surrounded him in a furious manner!
Their mood was one of wrath and anger ,
They had marked this house like a ship
Dropping its anchor!
Ben had acted in an aggressive way,
He should have then realized that he had
Better begin to pray!
The crows continued to hassle Ben,
So they moved to another house which Gwen
Liked, but none of them knew, that crows
Have a definite form of communication,
And pass on information,
From generation to generation.
They are so smart, they can outsmart
Us all,
Ben had made a wrong call
By shooting a crow, for the intelligence,
Of this inexplicable creatures
Is surprisingly alike to human like features,
And even though the family had
Moved to a new abode,
The crows were now in revenge mode
Not for Gwen,
Little Benny
And not Lenni,
Just Ben!
So Ben could never leave his home and go outside,
For the remainder of his life had to stay inside!
The reason why is because crows handed down the
The news of this killer to their sons and grandsons so
If Ben ever put a step outside of his house
A murder of crows
Would force him back in,
For how long, who knows!
We got the call this morning...
your soul checked out
you left this
world in flight...
a good man of kind spirit
you surrendered the last
battle -
We salute you you gave
a fine fight...
little did we know just
how sick you were...
...but then that is the mark
of a battler not to surrender
and not to show no fear...
...You walked tall into the darkest
shadow...a good spirit will
champion his own path...
...We all hold you dear in
our hearts...for we spoke
fondly of you unbeknown
from this world you did part...
...a worker all your life...
right up to sixty-five...
...then just twelve weeks
into retirement...your body
up and dies...
...you retired to the skies...
...your soul had other plans
...to be at peace instead...
...this life had made it's
final demand...
a man of great
principle...all who new
you...Alex...you earned their respect...
...Dude who knew you had
cancer...this came as quite
a shock...
...all we can say is...what a rip off!!!
...for you it all started back
in 1942...you bit the bullet in 2007...
and off to heaven with you?
you are right old dude...
for many of us "the system
doesn't work"!...
...it only prepares us...
for something greater...(maybe)?
certainly not found here on this earth...
We can just see you now...
tucking into your
sardine sandwiches...
...tinkering round with some
hot rod...chev V8...or taking snaps
of your great travel escapades...
...we won't forget you Alex...
for this you can be sure...
time it goes too fast...
...in our memories you
will last...
...and I bet we've all taken
stock...for when your number is up
it's up...but sometimes old dude
life for some is such
a bloody crock...
I guess there are those that'll
say...life is what we make of it
of life we make at will...
...but there are those that
believe that life itself for
many can be very cruel...
I walk this earth, unbeknown to human kind
an heir to Legends, men of mighty deeds
who through the force of fire and stars we find
those such as I the offspring of their seeds.
Hercules, his power and strength unmatched
was challenged by the Gods, challenged in vain,
the Hydra by his own hand was dispatched
and Nemean Lion, too, met fate the same.
Achilles, near invincible I'll admit
(and yes I know he sometimes dressed like ladies)
sent countless warriors into the pit
ne'er to return, unseen the realm of Hades.
Fin MacCoul took on Aillen, Tuatha De Danann,
when each year on Tara the creature rounded,
but finally fell by the spear of man
and sleeps until Dord Fiann thrice is sounded.
With Hammer, Iron glove, from Nordic stock
the mighty Thor showed Jotnar who was boss,
until his end foretold at Ragnarok,
a testament in stone on Thorwalds cross.
From such as these who stories shall not end,
these champions and Gods, what e're their names,
I also by my deeds now do descend
to stand among their ranks and stake my claim.
For I, too, am Hero.
I change a three pin plug without a thought
without referring to a diagram,
assembling flat pack furniture is nought,
no need have I of cryptic two page plans.
Foregoing sleep, no need for sustenance
household spiders with glass I stalk and snare
then fearlessly propel them over fence
to neighbour's garden where they languish there.
The lids of pickle jars cannot withstand
onslaught from twisting sinews in my wrist,
abhorring a vacuum, by my command
they pop, admit defeat, cannot resist.
The elements and I stand face to face
as windows I squeegee atop a ladder,
my maiden below holds me firm in place
yet fearful lest I should relieve my bladder.
My Lady is thus pleased I wield such powers,
I take her approbation with a nod,
happy she won't now nag me for an hour
for by these feats, for once-
I am a God.
Amelia she loves to chat and tells an amusing story
But dear readers BEWARE – this one’s a little gory
She worked long hours at night as a barmaid
It was a job she loved and good wages she got paid
She’d had a busy day and her pits were a little whiffy
So she had a little bath – it would only take a jiffy
So into the bath Amelia got, she sank into the bubbles
But this was only the beginning of Amelia’s troubles
Amelia did a little fart but unfortunately followed through
And in the bath was floating a little bit of poo
Amelia got out quickly and left the bath to drain
But unbeknown to her the turd it did remain
She got dressed and ready to go - she had to get her lift
To the pub she loved to work in she always enjoyed her shift
With the customers Amelia was always a big hit
She didn’t let on her secret that in the bath she’d done a little poop*
But it was a Wednesday night and a quiz was on this day
Amelia she loved this challenge and she would always play
The final question stumped many people but they wanted to be the winner
Which barmaid crapped in the bath tonight and could they name the sinner?
The one in the white t-shirt some of the customers did shout
Amelia went as red as a beetroot- she couldn’t wait to get out
But the customers they did shout and cheer
And poor Amelia had to pour them another beer
Now Amelia no longer works in the bar
She works as a receptionist – she’s really come far
She loves her new job and always likes to talk
But to stop her following through now she always wears a cork.
· I had to change this from the S*** word as I know swearing is not allowed – but the expletive does make the poem flow better.
Jan Allison
19th March 2014
~submitted for contest Take 2 Free poetry contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud ~
- Unplaced in contest 'tickle my funny bone' sponsored by Francine Roberts ~
~ Please see notes about this poem ~
In his green anorak
With a red bobble hat
He was sat in the midday sun
He was looking so glum
Our dear teenage son
Such a look on his face
For the last place on earth
He wanted to be
Was a beach in the sun
With his Dad and his Mum
Our annual hols were just us three
On the beloved Island of Jersey
A trip replicated many times before
'Twas our favourite Island
Our special place
A place we came to adore
On previous stays our darling boy
Anticipation high as we took to the sky
He was boisterous and bursting with energy
Having bucket loads of fun ~ it was just us three
Overnight what on earth had occurred
Changing his personality so radically
He had always loved the sea and the sun
As he swam and he laughed having so much fun
It was just like a magical wand had been waved
Whilst our happy-go-lucky boy slept
This boy who had woken was not our son
For a while and unbeknown to him
We named him Damien the moodiest Alien
He hardly spoke
His head held low
The occasional grunt
He would on us bestow
But then of course
He’d just turned thirteen
The dreaded hormones
were kicking in…
This image came to mind only recently
It had always made me smile
But sadly my son is no longer here
He was taken so suddenly in October last year
No warning at all aged just 49 years
Since he has gone I’ve shed so many tears
But recently whilst reminiscing a while
Remembering that day it brought back my smile
That day on the beach
Getting hotter and hotter
Refusing to move
Refusing to talk
Too cool to be seen
With his Ma and his Da
In his red bobble hat
And his green anorak
~~~
Over the years we three
laughed out loud at that…
Written 17th November 2020
Contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE 46
Sponsor Brian Strand
10th place
World Nude Gardening Day 2025
You’re inappropriately dressed my dear
My husband said to me.
Don’t you know it’s World Nude Gardening Day
I heard it on the radio, first Saturday in May
And you’re out here fully clothed you see.
I thought, Oh No, your smugly face,
Your smile I will wipe off.
You do not think that I will come out nude.
So, quickly did I strip my clothes, went out to my backyard
And stood there starkers, not at all subdued.
When he saw me, he nearly choked,
I’d really wiped his grin.
I couldn’t let his challenge pass me by.
Unbeknown to him I went inside, stripped off then to comply
And that’s how this tradition did begin.
We had a laugh, took some pics,
On Facebook I did post.
But when my sons both saw this, they then gasped
And to this day every year, pray I won’t go out
I know they hope today will be the last.
Also, today we have to choose
a brand-new government.
Before I garden, I will need to vote.
Perhaps I could just go down there in nothing but a coat
But if it slipped off, face amercement.
I will not let this interruption
Spoil my gardening day.
It really does not matter who will win.
Because they promise us the world to lower inflation,
But really can’t believe a word they say.
No, I will stay at home in my yard
My garden I’ll attend.
There’s much to do like mowing, weed and prune.
If I am quick with all these tasks, could finish them by noon
Then to you all my pictures I can send.
Because I know each year
You want to see what I will do.
And if I bring a smile to everyone
Then that is what this day’s about, first Saturday in May
World Nude Gardening Day for me is just for fun.
Christine 3/5/2025